Someone Different
by Hannah-Kiwii
Summary: Cormac needed a girl who was different, interesting. She was perfect. A different take on Cormac McLaggen. AU set during HBP. CormacxHermione
1. Prolouge

**Summary:** Cormac needed a girl who was different, interesting. She was perfect. A different take on Cormac McLaggen. AU set during HBP. Cormac/Hermione

**The inspiration:** I feel this story needs a little explanation. It's not my norm, at least I don't think it is, but I need to write it down, especially with the release of the Half Blood Prince Movie looming…if I don't start it now, I never will.

Half Blood Prince wasn't my favourite book. I enjoyed it nonetheless. My best friend agreed, but one obsession with the book she didn't understand: Cormac McLaggen.

Cormac, to me, was great. His attitude, his characterisation his…everything, suddenly came to life for me. I'm not sure why, but the character just jumped out at me. He barely appeared, and disappeared very quickly, and that struck me. I seemed to be the only person who noticed him with more than passing acknowledgement.

I began to search the internet for mentions of him. He came up a couple of times in passing. Several threads paired him off with Lavender Brown, a ship that seemed reasonable, when examined, but which I detested immediately…I didn't like Lavender.

I searched fanfiction websites for mentions of his name. He appeared a couple of times in one role: he was the villain in several Ron/Hermione fanfics.

I became aware very quickly that I was very much alone in my belief that Cormac was not bad. Not good, necessarily, but not bad either. I reread HBP and noticed how he was portrayed as the bad guy, especially for kissing, or attempting to kiss, Hermione. This wasn't right. Surely it was Hermione who had used him, not the other way around.

This is my take on Cormac McLaggen: I want to make more of him, to make others notice him, to love him as much as I did…to see him as more than a base villain. This is Cormac as I see him.

I want to release this before the HBP movie for one specific reason: I've seen a photo of the guy who's playing Cormac, and I want to show I love him before the fangirls get there.

**Disclaimer:** Do I look like I own Harry Potter?

**Someone Different**

by Hannah-Errie

**Prologue**

Cormac McLaggen was bored. Really bored. It was too late to go to bed…or too early to go to bed, depending on which way you looked at it. He'd been doing some late night Quidditch practice. He figured he needed to practice, what with him working for a place on the Gryffindor team. He'd then been on a spontaneous midnight stroll round the castle. By the time he had returned to Gryffindor tower and completed his homework, the prospect of getting any sleep had been slim, so he'd decided to stay in the common room. He had briefly considered going to find Marianne; his girlfriend, to see what she could do to entertain him, but had given up even before setting out. He was bored of her too.

He got bored of all his girlfriends eventually.

They just weren't…_interesting_ enough, that was the word. They were all the same. All simpering and clingy and full of admiration. Not that he minded. He liked the admiration and the praise. He didn't mind the clinging all that much either. No, they were just missing something.

What Cormac wanted was a girl who, well, wowed him. He'd thought at first that getting a prettier girlfriend would do the trick, but Marianne was defiantly one of the most attractive girls he'd ever dated, and he'd gotten sick of her quicker than he ever had before.

"_Is it too much to ask",_ Cormac considered bitterly, "_for a girl I can appreciate, rather than the other way around?"_

No, what Cormac needed wasn't a pretty girl, it was a different girl. Maybe a girl who was interested in Quidditch? Now a Quidditch player would make an interesting girlfriend. To share an interest with a girl would be a welcome revelation. She'd probably not complain when he went to practice too, like Marianne did…constantly.

"_Or"_, he pondered, "_I could try to win a really intelligent girl. I bet a girl like that would be able to make me laugh. She might even appreciate me for more than my looks and skills as a Keeper. I need a girl like…a girl like…"_

"McLaggen," a harsh voice rang out, cutting through his train of thoughts. "Is my book bag under that chair, I seem to remember leaving it there earlier?"

Hermione Granger stood over him. She was dressed immaculately, her uniform perfect to every regulation. Her bushy hair bounced against her shoulders if she moved her head. Her polished prefect badge shone radiantly on her chest.

And to complete the picture, she was scowling with her hands on her hips. She was clearly _not_ in a good mood.

"Morning," he said; suddenly he was much more awake than he would normally be. He wasn't normally awake at six in the morning, unless there was Quidditch involved. Hermione, however seemed unaware of just how early she was up. She looked as fresh as a daisy. A very impatient daisy.

"Book bag?" Cormac questioned, bending down to run his hands under the chair. He felt the bag in question, but pushed it further under the armchair, well out of sight. He needed time to arrange his jumbled thoughts. "No there's no book bag here. Are you sure you left it in the common room?"

The scowl on her face grew more prominent. Cormac's stomach was doing flip-flops. When had Hermione Granger become so perfect? Oh, what an amazing coincidence that she of all people had interrupted his musings.

Cormac needed someone different, someone not normal, and Hermione fit that bill. In a room full of girls she stuck out like a soar thumb. She wasn't into makeup or clothes, and didn't squeal at the mention of boys or celebrities. Cormac needed someone interesting, and how much more interesting did they become? Her life in the wizarding world had been fraught with danger and adventure, and Cormac was under no illusion that if he were by her side, his would be too. As for intelligent, you couldn't find someone more so than Hermione.

The little voice at the back of his head piped in then, adding it's own reasoning to Cormac's already confused ramblings. "_She's pretty too," _crooned the voice. "_It wouldn't hurt your chances of getting on the Quidditch team if you get on the good side of Potter's best friend, either." _He knew he listened to that voice far more often than he should, but the voice was right. Hermione was pretty in a very discrete way, although he hadn't really noticed up until now. He'd be careful not to mention the Quidditch thing to her, though.

"Of course I'm sure," she insisted, irritated. "I distinctly remember leaving it under that chair. Are you sure it isn't there?"

"One hundred percent positive," he replied, straightening up, before getting to his feet. He towered over her. "Would you like me to help you look for it?" he asked politely.

"No thank you," she replied haughtily. She stalked angrily to the portrait hole. Cormac decided not to stop her: everyone knew not to get in Hermione's way when she was in a bad mood.

Despite her well known temper, Cormac was sure he'd found her; the perfect girl, the perfect challenge. Hermione would be a challenge to concur, a challenge to please, but a welcome challenge. More than welcome. Cormac McLaggen made up his mind in the common room, there and then, that Hermione Granger was the girl he'd been searching for.

But he would let her cool off before he put his master plan into action.

He should probably come up with said master plan first too.

* * *

Hermione Granger was mad. Really mad. She'd gone to bed angry, and woken up worse. The current situation wasn't helping her temper at all, either. She'd lost her book bag. She was trying to rummage through her trunk in mass panic _quietly_ so as not to wake up _dear_ Lavender. Oh, now she was really mad; her subconscious was being sarcastic.

"Stop, Hermione," she muttered to herself. "Think. You stormed out of the common room last night when Ron and Lavender started…no, don't think about that! You stormed out of the common room, and left your bag under your chair. So just go down and get it. Simple."

She took a few deep, calming breaths and headed for the stairs.

She hadn't expected anyone to be in the common room this early, and if she had found someone she would have put money on the fact that they would be sleeping, having fallen asleep last night whilst doing homework.

Cormac McLaggen, however, was in the common room and was wide awake, although he didn't seem to notice her come in. She wouldn't have minded, only she was convinced he was sitting in the chair she'd left her bag under. Dealing with an arrogant fool first thing in the morning was _just_ what she needed.

Fortune was looking down on her and laughing.

She made her presence known, and in no uncertain terms made it clear to him why she was there. He must have been half asleep, she observed, because he offered to help her look for her bag. She declined, and decided to head for breakfast. She could easily eat and be out of the dinning hall by the time Ron arrived. Not that she was avoiding him...and even if she was, it had nothing to do with Lavender. Nothing at all.

**Authors Notes:** I'd really appreciate knowing what you think of this! I'd love to continue it, but to justify the effort I think I need readers…regardless, I've got the first 5 chapters typed up already, so I need some reviews to motivate me to get them up here!

Review!


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter Summary: Cormac puts his plan into action and it works better than he'd expected

**Chapter Summary: **Cormac puts his plan into action and it works better than he'd expected.

**Authors Notes:** Thanks to Robyn for BETA reading and encouraging me in my writing…constantly!

**Reviewers corner:**

**Lily:** Well, here's some more.

**EmmieLou555: **Thank you for all of your reviews, not just on this story! You really made me smile when I read them.

**Disclaimer:** yeah, I don't own it…although…how much do you think I'd have to offer JK to buy Cormac?

**Chapter 1 - Master Plan**

Cormac's plan was genius.

Well, maybe not genius, but it was good.

Okay, so it sucked, but it was better than nothing, and it was going to work.

The only problem was she wasn't in the Great Hall. He'd never really thought about where any of the other Gryffindors went when they weren't in lessons, at a meal or in bed. Now he really wished he'd paid more attention. Where on earth would Hermione Granger be at eight o'clock on a Thursday morning?

He slumped dejectedly into a seat at the Gryffindor table. He munched on some toast disappointedly, mourning the failure of his plan. He'd spent two hours thinking that up.

He looked around him briefly, and discovered that Harry Potter was sat about three seats away. Normally, Cormac would have ambushed him, and attempted to charm the boy into letting him on the Quidditch team. Not to today though. Today he had bigger things on his mind.

Ron Weasley walked into the room and took the seat beside Harry. A blonde Gryffindor sixth year who he knew by face but not by name was wrapped around the redhead, who looked quite pleased with himself.

"Werb's 'Mione dis mornin'," Weasley mumbled through a mouthful of toast.

Potter shrugged. "She took off after I arrived; I think she's gone to the library. She's looking for her book bag."

Cormac's brain whirred into action. He put together the words "'Mione" and "book bag" and realised his plan could still be salvaged. According to her best friends, Hermione was in the library. Cormac nearly hit himself at the obviousness of it all. Where else would you find a book worm?

"Typical 'Mione." Weasley continued as Cormac stood to leave. "She's off sulking behind a book for the silliest little thing…" The blonde girl shot Weasley an enormous smile. Cormac took off at a sprint, Hermione's book bag swinging against his leg as he ran.

* * *

Hermione was balanced on her knees and one hand, trying to reach underneath one of the desks in the library. She felt around, careful not to move too much or she'd loose her balance. This was the last desk in the library. If she didn't find her bag here, she'd have to go to Filch and declare it lost. She would put a note on the notice board in the common room too. She didn't know what she'd do until then. All of her text books had been in that bag, and whilst most teachers would take her explanation, Snape would no doubt give her detention if she dared to turn up to his lesson unprepared.

Someone cleared their throat behind her and, distracted, she lost her balance and slammed straight into the floor. Covered in dust and glowing bright red with embarrassment she crawled backwards out from under the heavy oak desk.

Looking up to see who had made the sound, she was surprised to find Cormac McLaggen staring down at her.

He looked more embarrassed than she felt, and he hadn't fallen over. He offered his hand to her politely, and she accepted it gratefully, climbing to her feet.

"Sorry about that," he said ashamedly, still blushing.

"Did you want something?" she asked, growing irritated again now that the embarrassment of falling over had worn off.

"Yes, I was looking for you," he said brightly, smiling in what he must have thought was a charming way. "I found your book bag. It was in the common room."

All her frustration seemed to melt away into relief. She'd found her bag, and all before lessons began too. "Thank you," she breathed in relief. "You saved my life."

* * *

"Thank you," she breathed in relief. "You saved my life."

He smiled. The master plan had gone better than he had expected. Of all the wonderful girls who could have left their bags under his chair, it had to be one who loved books. Any normal girl would have given him a discrete "thank-you" and walked off. Hermione Granger was so grateful at the safe return of her most precious reading material and she was grinning like a loon, and he was sure she hadn't realised it.

She brushed the dust off her uniform and tucked the chair back under the desk. He admired her whilst she was distracted. She really was beautiful. Her bushy hair had a life of its own, her hazel eyes told of a thousand facts and fictions stored and memorized in her enormous brain. Everything about her defied whatever unwritten laws all his previous girlfriends had conformed to. How had he not noticed her before?

"Here," he said, passing her the bag when she was sure everything was in acceptable order. "I'm glad I was able to help. I guess I'll see you around." She nodded.

He turned around, and made his way towards the door of the library, a new spring in his step. He'd defiantly succeeded in getting into Hermione Granger's good books. Now he needed to come up with another stage in the plan before he…

"McLaggen…Cormac," a voice called out behind him, halting his progress towards the door.

He spun round quickly, to find Hermione walking towards him. She stopped right in front of him. "Cormac," she asked softly, nervously. "Who are you going to Slughorn's Christmas party with?"

His jaw dropped. Had Hermione Granger just asked what he thought she'd asked? In girl talk, that was paramount to asking him if he'd consider taking her!

Well, what did he tell her? The honest answer was that he was taking his girlfriend of two weeks, Marianne. He was probably imagining things, she was most likely just curious, her being in the Slugclub too. Hermione didn't use "girl talk" either, as far as he was aware. Better safe than sorry though.

"No one, yet," he lied easily. "I hadn't really thought about it."

What happened next made him sure he was imagining things.

* * *

As McLaggen turned to walk away, a half formed fragment of an idea poked its way to the front of Hermione's thoughts, dancing up and down and demanding immediate attention. Hermione knew the plan was born from rage and envy directed solely at Lavender, and that everything was bound to end in tears, but for once she decided to go with gut instinct.

As long as the tears were Lavender's, it didn't matter in the end.

She called after McLaggen. The librarian scowled at her, but she paid her no attention. She was on a mission. She needed to convince McLaggen to go to Slughorn's party with her. She wanted to get him to ask her though. Revenge would be so much sweeter if she made it appear as though another boy had beaten Ron to her.

Hermione silently thanked her mother for her insistence that she take part in a drama work shop when she was younger. Hermione had methodically taken to acting like she did to everything she attempted. Very soon, she'd have McLaggen eating out of her hand.

* * *

She looked up at him, her eyes wide. She looked desperately hopeful. "You…you haven't got anyone either?" she breathed.

His heart raced at one thousand miles an hour. _B-dump B-dump_. He breathed deeply, trying to organize his thoughts enough to be able to do something about the beautiful girl in front of him.

"Would you," he forced out the words gruffly, "like to go with me?"

She smiled up at him; a brilliant smile. "I'd love to, Cormac," she said sweetly, still smiling. "Thank you for asking."

He could barely form a coherent sentence. "It's no problem. I'm really glad you want to go. Go with me I mean. It's really great." Now he was talking too much, but he realised his words weren't good enough. He needed to be more sophisticated to empress Hermione. "I mean, the pleasure's all mine," he said simply, feeling his face grow hot. "I…I'll catch you later, okay? I need to get to lesson. We have Defence first and you know what's Snape's like…" he trailed off.

She smiled encouragingly. "I won't make you late. I'll speak to you later."

"Yeah, later," he muttered.

Cormac sprinted all the way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. He couldn't believe how well his plan had worked. To think he'd managed to get a date with the girl all because he returned a book bag. Today was turning out to be a very good day.

**Authors Notes:** Hermione really isn't the villain of the piece…stay with me, it's gonna look like that for a couple of chapters!

Reviews are loved!


	3. Chapter 2

**Authors notes: **All my love and thanks to Robyn! No doubt I'd be immensely bored without you.

Dedicated to Rachel, my little sister, who's just started the last chapter of Half Blood Prince!

**Reviewers' corner:**

Thank you very very very much to** Leridan**,** EmmieLou555 **and the two anonymous reviewers (especially the other Cormac fan! I've finally found someone else who appreciates him!).

**Disclaimer: **I don't own it

**Chapter 2 - Preparations**

He had a date with a girl. He had a date with an intelligent girl. He had a date with the most intelligent girl on the planet_._ In the universe.

These words raced each other around Cormac's head when he woke on the morning of Slughorn's party. He smiled wistfully to himself. Hermione. He hadn't been this infatuated since his first crush at the age of ten. What had been the girl's name again? He couldn't remember.

Several times he had almost managed to convince himself it was a dream. Almost. There were small proofs though, to assure him he wasn't going insane.

Firstly it had been the whispered gossip as he passed in the corridors. "Did you hear that Hermione and that seventh year…? Parvati told me Hermione said…He's really into Quidditch…I heard she asked him…"

Every girl seemed to relish in it. A couple of really brave ones broke from their packs to ask him if it true. "Of course," he replied with a dazzling smile; he escaped, leaving them to their whispering and giggling.

Secondly, there was the red mark on his cheek that lingered for days. Marianne was the first girl who'd dumped him in a long time: normally, once he got bored, it was the other way around. Unfortunately, he didn't get around to telling Marianne he thought it was best they ended it before the gossip reached her ears. Her slap to his face and cold declaration of hate was a necessary trial in the race to winning Hermione's heart, Cormac reasoned, and took the break-up with only a hint of remorse. Marianne had been a very pretty girl, after all.

There were other things too, like the cold glares that the youngest Weasley boy gave him as they passed in the corridors, and the brief smiles he shared with Hermione if they happened to meet in their day to day activities. He had never realised before that a simple smile could make his difficult day seem so bright.

Most importantly though, there was her speaking to him two nights ago. "Cormac," she had called nervously across the common room.

He had wanted to bound over, but decided to take a more careful route across the cluttered room, winding his way between the various armchairs. He grinned at her when he reached her chair.

"What is it?" he asked cheerfully. He considered adding "beautiful" to the end of the question, but decided against it: not that it wouldn't be completely true, he just didn't want to be too forward.

"I thought we should arrange for the party," she said simply. "I'll meet you outside the portrait hole at eight, if that's okay?"

"That's fine by me," he assured her. Suddenly, a wonderful idea occurred to him. "I'll bring you a gift!" he exclaimed happily.

Hermione looked slightly guilty. "No, no, you don't have to do that," she began, but he cut her off.

"I will," he insisted. "I want to say thank you to you for coming with me." She blushed, embarrassed. He didn't understand why she looked so…pained. It was almost like she was mad at herself. Cormac shook it off. The girl was probably nervous: she hadn't been on a date since her brief fling with the Bulgarian Quidditch player, as far as he was aware.

Cormac had done some research on Hermione. Not "stalker-ish" research, but the type that could possibly help him understand the bookworm a little better. He needed some help, as she was unlike any other girl he'd dated before. He asked around, and when that turned up no answers he took to watching her, even following her to the library once or twice, trying to gain some clue as to what would be the perfect present. He found none.

It was blindingly clear that Hermione loved books. The whole world knew it and teased her about it. That, however, was not a good idea for a gift. Too impersonal. Besides, Cormac rarely read for pleasure, preferring Quidditch, and he doubted his own personal favourite, Quidditch Trough The Ages, would be of too much interest to Hermione. She'd probably read it anyway, it was in the Hogwarts' library after all.

He listed all kinds of things, but found nothing satisfactory.

Eventually, he settled on the one course of action he'd been avoiding for a long time. He owled the store that he had ordered Marianne's birthday present from several days back, to cancel the first order, but requested something else he had noticed in the shop whilst he had been there. The owner replied, saying he was shocked that Cormac remembered the piece, and that he'd would insure it arrived by the evening Cormac had specified. When he took a seat at breakfast that morning a tawny owl landed in front of him, holding its leg out in an impatient manner. Cormac ripped open the brown paper surrounding the package eagerly, and wrote a short message on the label already attached to the small package with the bent quill he kept in his pocket. The package was wrapped in red paper beneath the brown. When happy with his message, he stuffed both the gift and the quill back into his pocket, ensuring they would be safe until that evening.

Cormac's day couldn't move fast enough for his liking, and as a result it seemed to drag by slower than a day ever had before. By the time the clock struck half past seven, he could wait no longer. He stood impatiently in the corridor for the next forty minutes, because, despite the fact that she had specified the time, Hermione insisted on arriving ten minutes late. Cormac assumed that, despite all her differences, Hermione was still a girl, and girls would persist to take too long to get ready, no matter when, where or who they were.

Cormac's temper was famous amongst his friends. He was daring, impatient, and restless on the best of days. In previous years he had gained numerous detentions for fighting, duelling and attempting stupid bets. Cormac did not turn down a challenge; when someone annoyed him, he let them know: unsurprisingly he had spent his fair share of time in the hospital wing as well.

His irritation had been growing for nearly an hour when Hermione finally turned up; it was a sign of just how infatuated he was that this irritation melted at the sight of her. She looked breathtaking. Her naturally bushy hair had been tamed somehow into slightly wavy locks, which were gathered in a sparkly hair accessory at the base of her neck. Her dress robes were light in colour, and clung to her upper body. They weren't showy, but weren't her baggy, everyday school robes either. Cormac was speechless at the sight of her.

"Hi," she said eventually, shyly, guiltily. Cormac wondered if he was imagining things, and Hermione simply always sounded guilty.

"Hello," he replied, slightly breathless. "You look beautiful, Hermione."

She blushed slightly, but also seemed irritated by his comment for some reason. Cormac was struggling to form coherent thoughts, let alone speech. "Are you ready to go? Oh, I have your present it's…" the package clattered to the floor, and he bit his tongue half way through a swear word. She scowled at him disapprovingly.

He took several deep calming breaths as he bent to pick up the package, and decided to begin again. "How are you, Hermione?" he asked conversationally. "Have you had a good week?"

She seemed to find this topic safe too. She smiled at him sheepishly, attempting to compose herself too. "Yes, thank you. Yourself?"

"I'm fine too. My week's been okay, I guess. My girlfriend broke up with me, but it wasn't really anything serious." That was a lie, Cormac mused as he waited for Hermione to respond. It had become very serious very quickly between him and Marianne. Marianne had expected a lot, and until he had discovered an unknown depth to his own needs Cormac had been happy to give.

They began to walk down the corridor. "I heard about that," Hermione said, with a note of regret in her voice. "I'm sorry, it was my fault."

"Don't worry about it," Cormac replied easily. "Marianne and I had been rocky for ages." Another lie. "Besides, I'd much rather go to this party with you." This wasn't a lie, but it was way too forward, Cormac realised too late. If this had been a normal girl, a girl who had already been crushing on him and if he had been really lucky, that would have received a giggle and a shy smile. It elicited a soft frown from Hermione, and Cormac mentally kicked himself. S_tupid, overconfident, obsessed idiot._

This was going to be a long evening, Cormac realised with a sigh.

**Author's Notes**: Reviews are loved; I need as much help as I can get.

And if you can think of a better title for this story let me know. I don't like the current title but I'm all out of creative ideas.


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's notes:** Thank you to ordinarilyextrodinary, Teddy.in.a.nutshell, wasu, PrincessProcrastination and EmmieLou555 who reviewed chapter 2, it's really appreciated.

I've been asked a couple of times how certain things relate to cannon…I'm just following the cannon guidelines as long as it's convenient to plot development…so don't expect things to stay true to HBP, because they probably won't.

This chapter seems long…don't know why, it isn't particularly. Enjoy!

**Chapter 3 - Disaster**

Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea.

Hermione had chosen McLaggen for two reasons. Firstly, he'd annoy Ron, and secondly, he was an idiot.

He seemed incredibly nervous; something she didn't really understand as she was well aware that he'd dated numerous girls. When you shared a bedroom and bathroom with other girls, it was impossible not to hear the gossip.

McLaggen also seemed very…eager. This was making Hermione regret the decision. She was somewhat afraid of him. He was, well, _big_. He could snap her like a twig. He had a temper, too: she remembered his face after he failed the Quidditch trials, and had no wish to experience such rage again. Mostly, though, she felt guilty. He wouldn't really try anything in a room full of people, she was certain of that much, so she was safe. Her leading him on though, that made her uneasy.

Hermione contented herself on concentrating on the route to Slughorn's office. They should be there soon. McLaggen had given up on trying to make conversation, and was just talking to fill the silence. He was going on about Quidditch, she thought, but she wasn't really listening.

He slowed suddenly, ceasing his monologue. "It's still a couple of corridors away," she pointed out nervously. She wanted to get into the crowded room. Maybe then she could escape for a while. She could find Harry and get some moral support.

"Yeah, I know," he said, reaching into his pocket, pulling something out. She took a couple of steps forwards, urging him to hurry. She didn't like the idea of being stood in a dark corridor; especially as he had totally the wrong idea about why she had asked him out tonight.

"Here," he grunted, holding out a small package. She took it hesitantly, glancing at him curiously. "Open it," he urged.

Hermione examined the package first, turning it over in the palm of her left hand. She reached out with her right to pull the label into view. "Dearest Hermione," she read. "Thank you for agreeing to come with me tonight. At your service. Cormac." A new flood of guilt set in as she gently took the red paper off the box.

A golden coloured box lay beneath the red wrapping paper. She opened the small hinged lid and gasped. A fine gold chain was cushioned on a white cloth. Attached to the chain was a locket in the shape of a book, which opened to reveal two minute picture frames. "It's beautiful," she breathed.

* * *

Cormac grinned smugly. "Beautiful" she had called his gift. He stepped forward and took the locket from her unresisting hands, placing it around her neck and fastening the clasp. He stood back to admire her. "Perfect," he commented, smiling at her. He wasn't talking about the locket.

* * *

Hermione's guilt tripled as they began to walk towards the party again. They could hear the sounds of it growing steadily louder as they reached the corridor where the office was situated. Hermione chanced a glance at McLaggen, and he was literally bouncing up and down, obviously pleased that his gift had gone down well. She lifted her fingers the brush the gold chain on her neck. She was disgusted with herself.

They reached the room, and McLaggen held the door open for her. Slughorn had enlarged his office, yet still not everyone fit in. It was very squashed, very hot and there were many different odd looking people milling around, chatting to one another in a slightly forced manor. Hermione could have sworn that was a vampire in the corner.

The two of them walked around the room slightly awkwardly, unsure of what they were supposed to do. Several seventh year boys and a couple of girls came over to talk to McLaggen. He was more popular than Hermione had realised. One of the girls was so obviously flirting with McLaggen that Hermione wondered if the girl had any concept of subtlety. McLaggen didn't seem to bat an eyelid whilst the girl was there. Eventually, sick of being turned down repeatedly by a seemingly oblivious Cormac, the girl stormed away in a strop. He turned to Hermione, looking apologetic.

"Sorry," he intoned cheerfully. "Nicola's been a right pain ever since I dumped her in fifth year. She never seems to get the message."

Whilst McLaggen seemed to relax, Hermione grew more and more tense. He seemed to notice, and tried several times to start a conversation with her. She tried to look interested, she really did, but she just couldn't.

"Would you like to get a drink?" he asked eventually. He was becoming steadily more irritated with her unresponsiveness.

"Yes, okay," Hermione agreed, eager for an excuse not to talk to him. Her hands wrapped readily around the glass. She didn't care what she was drinking; she just needed to do something with her hands.

* * *

Cormac was getting more and more frustrated. Hermione refused to acknowledge him at all. He didn't get what he'd done wrong: she'd practically flung herself at him, he'd given her a present she loved and he'd been perfectly wonderful to her all evening. Normally by this point him and which-ever-girl-it-was-he-was-with would have snuck off to snog in a disused classroom somewhere. Not that he'd expected that from Hermione, but things could be a little better. She'd barely looked at him all evening.

He had practiced modesty all week because he thought it might impress Hermione. This, his best friend had pointed out, was incredibly ironic. Cormac shrugged it off. He wasn't going to explain to Hermione what he was doing. His control, however, was slipping away. If all the preparation he had gone to wasn't grabbing his attention, he'd have to resort to the tried and tested method.

Boasting.

"Hermione," he began, feeling more confident on home soil. "Have I told you about that time I successfully stopped a Quaffle with two broken arms?"

* * *

Her glass was empty now. It must have been alcoholic because she felt in slightly better spirits. Hermione noted that; she shouldn't drink any more, she didn't want to end up drunk. She decided to tune into what McLaggen was saying. It was something to do.

"…then Flint came speeding towards me and…"

He was _still _going on about Quidditch, no doubt boasting about how great he was at the game. Hermione groaned: Ron was the same. Harry wasn't much better when it came to Quidditch, although he was one of the most modest people she knew. Boys.

He misinterpreted her frustration. "Oh, would you like another drink?" he offered, spotting her empty glass.

"No thank you," she answered firmly. "Shall we-" she cast her eyes around the room; she needed something, anything, to do "-go and talk to some of the other guests?"

"Okay then," he responded, looking at her curiously. He didn't start up his rant again as they made there way around the edge of the crowded room.

She was about halfway across the room when she spotted Harry, or thought she did, but by the time she reached the spot he'd vanished. She stood on tiptoes and tried to see over the heads of the people around her. No such luck.

* * *

He caught up with her easily, despite her rushing off so fast. He had the advantage of being a head taller than everyone else.

"Hermione, are you okay?" he asked her.

She looked at him, and, once again, she appeared guilty. "Sorry for being a bit out of it, Cormac," she replied honestly. "I've been a little…preoccupied recently."

"Don't worry about it," Cormac attempted to reassure her. It didn't do much good: she simply returned to ignoring him.

He rolled his eyes in frustration, but something caught his attention. His eyes fixed on a spot just above Hermione's head, as she peered through the crowd. Cormac smiled secretly to himself: things were looking up.

* * *

Hermione was about to take off again, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at McLaggen.

"Hermione," he began. "Tonight's been awkward but…thanks for coming with me anyway, it means a lot."

She stared at him. Actually, it meant nothing: she wanted to make Ron jealous. She felt dreadfully sorry for the guy. She couldn't believe what she'd turned into. She sighed, smiling at him weakly. The wide grin that split his features didn't seem a justified response to her feeble grimace.

His eyes flickered upwards and she followed his gaze. She paled instantly. Now would be a great time to run.

McLaggen was closer now, too close. She tried abruptly to turn, but his lips pressed gently against hers.

Cormac tried to kiss her on the cheek. Really, it was her fault he missed. If she hadn't tried to turn it would have been a quick peck on the cheek, no harm done. No, it was entirely Hermione's fault that Cormac's lips were now pressed against hers.

* * *

Not that you'd find Cormac complaining about it.

He pulled back, grinning at her still. She sent him a death glare. If looks could kill, he'd be stone cold by now. He ran his hand through his short, wiry hair, awkwardly shuffling his feet. On closer examination it was nothing to get worked up about: just a brief kiss, nothing serious. His lips simply touched hers for a few seconds. Hermione would insist on getting worked up anyway.

"That," she hissed, "was uncalled for."

"It's traditional," he defended weakly, gesturing to the mistletoe above their heads. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

She glared at him again, and took off at a run, ducking between two other party guests and vanishing into the throng. He made no move to stop her. He felt like a fool for ever believing someone as wonderful as Hermione would ever look at him.

* * *

How could a kiss offend her? His words were too much. Why did he have to be so confusing?

She wasn't really mad at McLaggen, not really. It was her own, stupid fault that he'd gotten the idea; she shouldn't have led him on. She felt awful. She'd dashed the hopes of an innocent bystander and betrayed Ron all in one night.

"Betrayed Ron," she muttered to herself. Funny, how she thought of it like that. Ron was off willingly snogging some bimbo and she was blaming herself for being kissed briefly, unwillingly by another boy.

"Hermione!" called a familiar voice. "_Hermione_!"

Relief flooded her. Harry. Good old reliable Harry. Trust him to turn up when she was about to break to pieces.

"Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Luna!" She could hear the falseness of her enthusiasm and the obviousness of her relief even as she spoke.

"What's happened to you?" asked Harry. Hermione glanced down at herself; her dress robes were askew, slightly, and she could feel that her hair was dishevelled. She made a quick mental note that running through crowded rooms in dress robes wasn't necessarily a good idea.

"Oh, I've just escaped – I mean, I've just left Cormac," she began, without really thinking. She quickly edited it. Really, this wasn't McLaggen's fault, and she knew that. Harry continued to look at her questioningly. "Under the mistletoe," she added reluctantly under Harry's curious gaze.

"Serves you right for coming with him," he told her severely.

"I thought he'd annoy Ron most," Hermione said dispassionately. Then she added sarcastically, "I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on a whole -"

"_You considered Smith_?" said Harry, revolted. Well, Harry wasn't always very good with sarcasm.

* * *

Cormac was mortified. How had it gone so dreadfully wrong? He needed to find Hermione fast and apologize right away. It was a first: he'd never had to apologize to a girl for kissing her before.

He sped forwards, looking left and right. Even with his height it was difficult to see through or over the crowd, and next to impossible to squeeze through it.

Eventually he spotted Harry Potter. He forced his way through the crowd towards him. He was with that batty Ravenclaw fifth year, Lovegood. "Seen Hermione?" asked Cormac breathlessly. Fighting you way through partygoers making casual conversation was tougher than he'd given it credit for, especially when house-elves wound their way underfoot, unseen and easily squash-able.

"No, sorry," responded Potter abruptly, and he turned away. It was clear he didn't want to talk. McLaggen stalked off again, once again seeking Hermione.

**Author's note:** I'll leave you to speculate about where I'll take this next…  
And to review! Please review! I love reviews!


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:** My thanks to Teddy.in.a.nutshell, wasu and EmmieLou555 for reviewing. Also to Robyn, for BETA reading.

**Chapter 4 - Explanations**

"…so I eventually gave up and came back to the common room, but one of the girls in there told me she'd already gone to bed. She's been avoiding me since; I've not caught more than a glimpse of her since last night."

Cormac finished telling his story to his best friend of fifteen years. He'd known Kurt as long as he could remember, and he always went to Kurt for help. Kurt had yet to be helpful.

"Tell me again," Kurt asked for the thousandth time, "why you dumped _Marianne_ for a stuck up, goody-two-shoes bookworm."

Cormac rolled his eyes. "That's not important. What's important is that she's mad at me, and I need to do something about it."

"Marianne or Hermione?" Kurt asked dubiously.

"Hermione of course," Cormac answered exasperatedly

"I'll never understand you."

"Good."

Silence reigned.

"Well it's obvious what you have to do," Kurt stated after a while.

"It is?"

"Yes. You need to speak to one of her friends. Trust me, it works every time. You get the inside information on what makes the girl tick, and they always tell the girl that you asked: it shows that you're serious. Girls like that."

Cormac looked at Kurt suspiciously.

"What?"

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Cormac considered for a moment.

"Who would I ask?" Cormac asked seriously. "Potter and Weasley are her friends, but I assume you mean a girl friend. Plus, I get the feeling Potter would rather kill me then have me date his best friend."

Kurt grinned. "You forget that I _always_ have a solution, Cormy," Kurt assured. Cormac cringed at the nick name.

Beckoning for him to follow, Kurt led the way out of the dormitory and down into the common room. He strolled purposefully over to a circle of chairs by the fire.

"Hey darling, you okay?" Kurt asked the pretty Asian girl curled in a chair, her transfiguration text book open in her lap. She ignored him. Cormac vaguely remembered Kurt mentioning dating a sixth year.

"Parv, you're not still mad at me, are you baby?" he asked her, his voice full of false concern and compassion. The girl sniffed pompously. Obviously Kurt wasn't fooling the girl either.

"I said I was sorry, sweetheart." Cormac didn't know how many more endearments he could take. He didn't like this plan anymore. Really, he shouldn't have liked it from the beginning: it was Kurt's plan after all.

"And I said I wasn't talking to you," responded the girl finally.

"How can you expect me to stand it, though?" he whispered to her. "How can you ask me to stay away from you when you're so beautiful, so helpful, so perfect," he purred.

She rolled her eyes. "What do you want?" she asked tonelessly.

"We were wondering if you might have any idea why Granger would ask Cormac here out and then ignore him for the whole evening," Kurt asked, casually leaning against her chair.

She closed her text book with a snap. "Well that's obvious," she said, her tone exasperated.

The boys exchanged glances. It was?

She rolled her eyes again.

"If you knew anything about Hermione at all, you'd have sussed it out ages ago. Granger's had her eye on Weasley since first year, and now Lavender's beaten her to it."

They exchanged looks again.

"Pardon?" Cormac asked politely.

That set her eyes rolling again. "Hermione's jealous," Parvati stated clearly.

Cormac's eyebrows knitted together. "Of whom?"  
Parvati's gaze swivelled to the corner of the common room. The youngest Weasley boy was wrapped around the blonde girl Cormac had seen him with at breakfast the other week.

"Oh," Kurt said, realisation dawning on his face.

"What an intelligent response!" the girl responded bitterly. "I can see why you just have girls crawling all over you!"

"I told you," he responded in exasperation, "that she attacked me! I had nothing to do with it! If anything, I was the victim!"

"Yeah, like that could ever happen," the girl snorted. Kurt tried and failed to execute a hurt expression.

Cormac walked away from the arguing couple, considering what he'd just learnt from Hermione's roommate. Hermione was jealous. Jealous of whom? "_Granger's had her eye on Weasley since first year, and now Lavender's beaten her to it_," echoed the girl's voice in his head. Hermione liked Weasley? Weasley didn't like her back, and she was upset about it, and so she was jealous. Or was she trying to make someone else jealous?

It dawned on him suddenly. "_She tried to use you_," the voice in his head chanted in a sing song voice. "_She wants to make the redhead jealous. You were the bait._" The voice in his head always seemed to be right, Cormac considered angrily. It also told him the thoughts he was too afraid to think by himself.

Cormac collapsed on his bed. "_Giving up?_" asked the voice finally goaded, acidic.

"No," responded Cormac firmly, with utter determination building in every bone in his body. He wasn't going to give up on Hermione Granger.

"You're talking to yourself again, Cormy," Kurt stated. Cormac hadn't realised he'd returned to the room.

With the practiced ease of a Quidditch player Cormac chucked a pillow at Kurt's head. A few minutes later the door slammed, signalling Kurt's exit. Cormac opened his eyes and rolled over onto his stomach, resting his chin in his hand. Now he was free to come up with a plan of action in peace.

**Author's notes:** Reviews are loved. It doesn't matter how long or short, positive or negative. Let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes:** Thanks to Sandy, TheCrzyinglyInsne1, Haydees for reviewing, it's really appreciated.

**Chapter 5 - Taking Action**

Cormac McLaggen never gave up. He'd lain awake late into the night trying to come up with the perfect plan. The perfect plan for what exactly, he wasn't sure, he just knew that with someone as amazing as Hermione Granger on the line it had to be flawless.

At first, Cormac had gone straight for making Hermione fall in love with him, or at the very least like him back. He couldn't even get started on that plan, so he thought of another route. Next he'd worked on a plan to get himself noticed, but when he ran all possible scenarios through in his head they sounded a little daft.

Finally, he'd settled on simply apologizing for the disaster that had been Slughorn's party. He was going to take a present too, seeing as how his last one had gone down so well.

This morning he wasn't going to let Hermione avoid him. Most of Gryffindor house had returned home for the Christmas, including her two best friends.

He got up at the crack of dawn and snuck into the grounds. He hadn't had the time to be inventive, and he'd used up all his best ideas on her last gift anyway. He'd had to settle for flowers. Wild flowers. Slightly drooping wild flowers. He shrugged it off. It was the thought that counted, and he was sure that girls like Hermione probably believed stuff like that.

He found her in the Great Hall at breakfast when he came in from his flower picking mission. There weren't many people up that early, all of them taking advantage of the holiday to catch up on some sleep. Hermione, typically, was up bright and early, nothing more than her bushy hair visible behind a book.

He brushed the worst of the dirt and snow from his robes and hair and made his way towards her.

He sat down next to her and smiled when she lowered her book to see who had disturbed her.

"Good morning, Hermione," he greeted cheerfully.

It was visible in her face that she really didn't know how to react. She simply looked tired, not angry, so he pressed on. "Here," Cormac said, thrusting the flowers at her.

She took the flowers, examining them curiously. "Thank you," she finally replied, wary.

"It's an apology gift," he explained. "I need to say sorry for Slughorn's party. I was an idiot and I really don't deserve your attention. Thank you for spending time with me anyway. I…it was a nice evening up until…well, up until I ruined it."

* * *

McLaggen approached her at breakfast. Really, she hadn't counted on him actually trying to speak to her again after the disastrous party. She hadn't really thought beyond making Ron jealous, and now she did think she recognised that as a serious lapse in judgement.

What's more, he apologized. The familiar feeling of guilt returned again.

"Thank you Cormac," she replied quietly, but her tone was apologetic. "I had a good evening too."

McLaggen's beaming smile was his response, but for some reason she didn't feel any better; her guilt doubled. "You're very welcome," he insisted. "I'll talk to you soon," he promised, before jumping to his feet and all but skipping out of the hall.

_Some people are very easy to please_ Hermione thought glumly before turning back to her book, though she didn't see the words. Soon she found herself looking at the flowers. They were yellow, with oddly shaped, pointed petals which looked half dead. Snow clung to the yellow spikes. How hard had he searched to find flowers in the middle of winter?

She gave up on breakfast and stood, clutching the flowers to her. After she'd put these by her bed she'd hide in the library for the rest of the day. There was nothing there that could make her feel guilty.

* * *

It was Kurt's plan to hide in the library. The two of them lurked between the book shelves in the Muggle studies section, where they were hidden from view of the door but had a clear view of the secluded tables at the back of the room which were, according to Kurt's now reconciled girlfriend, Hermione's usual haunt.

They heard the doors creak and footsteps as someone made their way around the library, collecting books from the shelves. It had to be Hermione, because no one else would be in the library only days before Christmas.

She rounded the corner into their range of vision, and by peering between the shelves Cormac watched her sit at the table and bend over a book, occasionally making notes on a scrap bit of parchment beside her. Her hair fell into her eyes consistently, and she pushed it away without seeming to notice, the movement reflex rather than irritation. She was beautiful.

Cormac sighed. He could watch her all day.

He probably would have too, had Kurt not pushed him around the book case. "Go talk to her," he hissed, when Cormac looked at him in protest.

Hermione didn't notice his approach. He cleared his throat to let her know he was there.

She jumped. Glancing around, her eyes quickly rested on him as the source of the disturbance. Her features hardened.

"Hello," he said nervously. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

She shook her head as though to clear it. "As long as you don't disturb me."

"I won't," he insisted, slipping into the seat opposite her. "You won't even know I'm here."

He watched her turn back to her book and studied her face carefully. Her brow furrowed slightly when she concentrated, and her eyes darted with practised ease across the page before her. Her lips silently mouthed words and passages she found to be important, or else her hand traced the page.

Eventually she looked up and found him watching her. Her eyes narrowed in frustration. "What did you want, exactly?" she asked irritably.

He couldn't stop himself from smiling slightly. "I just thought I'd keep you company, you seem lonely." She raised her eyebrow doubtfully. "I mean, with your friends gone for Christmas, you don't have anyone to spend the holiday with, do you?"

"I was hoping to use the library for study with being disturbed," she hinted.

"It can't be much fun studying by yourself," he pressed. "You'll get more done if you have a friend to help. Besides, I've already completed sixth year, maybe I'll be of some help."

She didn't look angry now, but she still seemed dubious. He grinned at her. "You might be a genius," he teased, "but surely even you need more than books for company sometimes."

"There is no friend more loyal than a book," she quoted, but she was smiling too. "Well, I suppose it can't hurt too much."

"Great. So, what subject are you revising?"

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading, and remember to review! A few minutes of your time to comment could make my day, and it really does help with my writing!


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's notes:** Oh, guys I'm soooo sorry for the delay! Especially after you were all so enthusiastic. I'll put up two chapters at once to make up for it, okay?

Please keep reading and reviewing, and don't take my dodgy updating schedules as a good example!

**Thanks and cookies to:** PixieDust-xxxx, TheCrzyinglyInsne1, PrincessProcrastination and Haydees for their reviews.

**Chapter 6**

Three days straight Cormac had spent in the library. His back ached from sitting in the same position constantly and one word merged into another on the page before his eyes. He couldn't do this anymore. It was inhuman. It was wrong.

How could Hermione sit there, utterly relaxed, completely beautiful, for so many hours?

She was some sort of reading _demon_.

She finished volumes so fast that she could barely have skimmed over the words, yet she memorized every sentence. She became totally absorbed in herself when she read. Any new piece of knowledge was greeted with a slight frown. Her mouth would lift into a small smile at other moments. Cormac found that the rate at which he could read a page slowed; but it had less to do with how tired his eyes were and more to do with how very easy it was to stare at Hermione while she read.

Nevertheless, they needed to take a break. Cormac was determined that Christmas day would be completely study free, whatever Hermione said about grades.

* * *

Christmas morning dawned white and cold. A snow storm raged, battering the ancient walls of Hogwarts' castle. Hermione didn't feel particularly compelled to leave the warmth of her bed to unwrap presents alone. She couldn't even face her pile of gifts knowing that there would be one less than all the previous years, because Ron wouldn't have bought her anything this time.

Really, she would have happily spent the day curled up in bed reading a book and avoiding the Christmas cheer. She didn't want to spend Christmas day alone, but since she'd opted to stay at school to use the library, and Harry had gone home with Ron, she didn't really have much choice.

She had wanted to ask Harry to stay at school with her, but that had felt incredibly selfish.

Hermione burrowed under her quilt, ignoring the fact that she had promised to use her time to study, and tried to get back to sleep.

* * *

Kurt glared at Cormac.

"Tell me again why we can't start celebrating Christmas yet."

"We're waiting for Hermione," Cormac replied simply.

"We've been waiting for Hermione for the last hour. For Merlin's sake, Cormac, let me open my presents," Kurt nagged irritably.

"Fine," Cormac conceded. "But I'm not opening mine until she's here."

"What law says she'll want to spend Christmas with you anyway?" Triumphantly Kurt ripped through the wrapping paper on one of his gifts.

"No law. There's no harm in asking."

"Whatever, mate. I don't think she's coming down any time soon anyway."

Cormac ignored his friend and turned back to watching the entrance to the girls' dormitories. Kurt had proved in their third year that boys could not access the girls' rooms when his attempted had resulted in the stairs becoming a slide. One of the Hogwarts' founders' jokes, apparently. Hermione might not even realise she had someone to spend the day with her. He should get a message to her somehow, but there were no girls around he could ask to deliver one to her.

"How can I send a message to someone?" Cormac pondered allowed.

"Send an owl, stupid," Kurt answered, still very much engrossed in his gifts.

Enlightenment dawned on Cormac's face. "Of course. Stay here, Kurt, I'm just going to run to the owlry."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "It'll be cold up there. And wet. When are you going to give up on her?"

"I'm not," Cormac shouted as he ducked out of the common room, a quill and some parchment clutched in one hand.

* * *

A persistent taping on the window awakened Hermione. She tried to curl up with her head under her pillow and go back to sleep but the tapping just wouldn't stop. Throwing her pillow away in frustration, she got out of bed to locate the source of the sound.

She found an owl trying to gain entry by tapping on the glass with its beak.

She opened the window to let the bird in. It was exhausted as it had been fitting against the wind to stay aloft outside the window. She recognized it as a school owl and wondered if it had gotten lost on its way to the owlry, until she realised it had a letter attached to its leg.

"I should have known," she muttered to herself as she untied the parchment. "It was a little too convenient that an owl would find an occupied room when the castle is nearly deserted, purely because it took a wrong turning on its way to the owlry." The wet owl perched on the end of her bed and ruffled his feathers. Hermione didn't have the heart to force the bird out of the window and back into the storm that was raging outside.

Hermione unrolled the parchment. There was a short hand written message scrawled hastily. "Please come down, Hermione."

It took her a moment to recognize the handwriting from their recent study sessions, but Hermione quickly understood that the message had to be from Cormac.

She didn't understand his insistence that he keep her company during the holidays. His motivation was still unclear, although she'd been trying to work it out. Did he want something from her, or was he genuinely trying to offer friendship? From what she'd assumed of Cormac before and during Slughorn's party she didn't think Cormac was one to offer charity or sympathy, so she'd assume he had some sort of ulterior motive, but then she wasn't sure he was bright enough to hide one.

She pulled on a dressing gown over her pyjamas.

"_I have enjoyed his company," _she admitted to herself as she made her way down the stairs. "_It is more comforting to know there's someone who wants to talk to me, whatever his reasons._"

Cormac was pacing impatiently when she reached the foot of the stairs. She waited for him to turn to face her; it didn't take more than a second.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed happily when he saw her. "I didn't think you'd ever come down."

"How long have you been waiting?" she asked curiously, noting the pile of unopened Christmas gifts on the chair beside him.

"All morning," he admitted, a slight blush creeping onto his features. "My friend Kurt was waiting with me but he got bored and went back to our dorm. I thought you might want to spend Christmas day with us, since your friends all went home," he suggested merrily.

The rational, more dominant part of her mind began to pile up reasons and excuses. "I was just going to study, Cormac," she told him. "You didn't have to go to all that trouble."

"I wanted to," he persevered. "And I'm not going to let you study at Christmas. It's unnatural."

Hermione considered his smiling, determined face, and found her resolve caving. She smiled at him slightly. "Thank you, Cormac," was all she could think of to say.

He bounded forwards. "You've not opened your presents yet, have you? Go and get them, we'll open them together!" As he propelled her towards the stairs again Hermione could help but feel some of his joy rub off.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

It took a lot of persuading on Cormac's part to get Hermione down to the great hall for the Christmas feast. As a result of her refusal to join the remaining students they arrived late. When they arrived everyone was already digging into the meal around the one long table which now seated all the remaining occupants of Hogwarts.

Cormac led her to a seat near Kurt, who was sat about half way down the long table shovelling turkey greedily into his mouth. Cormac sat next to his friend and Hermione sat opposite them, looking uncomfortable.

"Hermione, this is Kurt," Cormac introduced once they had sat down.

Kurt swallowed and grinned at her. "You finally came down then?" he concluded. She nodded warily. "Good to see you. Merry Christmas."

With everything of importance said he turned away from Hermione and back to his food.

Cormac elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't be rude," he hissed.

Kurt smiled slyly at Hermione. "So, what's the news with you two? Are you actually giving the pathetic guy a chance?" He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands and watching Hermione intently, ignoring the feel of Cormac's glare on his back.

Hermione looked confused. "Do you mean Cormac?" she asked, puzzled.

"Darling, how many other pathetic idiots are sat next to me?" Hermione smiled slightly, and Kurt pressed on in his drawling tone. "All I'm saying is Cormy here waited all morning for you. You might as well be nice to the poor fool since he's trying so hard."

Cormac bristled at the words. "Shut up or get lost," he hissed. "Leave Hermione alone. She can think for herself. She can think for herself better than anyone!" He caught Hermione's eye and blushed, looking determinedly frustrated as he turned back to face his friend. "And don't call me Cormy."

Kurt simply smirked triumphantly and ignored his friend's angry warnings. "So, Hermione, what shall we talk about. Did you know I'm going out with a girl in your year? Parvati Patil. Do you know her?" he asked casually.

"Yes, she's in my dorm," Hermione told him slowly. "I wasn't aware she was dating anyone." She scrunched up her nose as she thought. "I think I remember Lavender saying Parvati broke up with you."

Kurt's face fell slightly; though he waved his hand to dismiss her words. "Technically, maybe. I, however, have a plan."

It was Cormac's turn to smirk. "What was it you were saying the other day about not getting caught up on one girl?" he teased triumphantly.

"Parvati isn't just _one girl_," he said indignantly. "She's smart, witty, and the most beautiful girl in the school."

Cormac snorted. Remembering something Kurt had said about girls always reporting back to their friends Cormac deduced that this probably was Kurt's plan. He expected Hermione to report back to Parvati the long list of compliments, hoping that Parvati would actually take him back. _Good luck; it hasn't happened yet,_ Cormac mocked his friend silently.

Kurt misinterpreted Cormac's snort. "You don't agree, Cormac? Tell us who _you_ think is the most beautiful girl in the school is."

As Cormac felt his face blush bright red and his eyes flicker to Hermione he couldn't help but consider how beautiful was on odd word. The prettiest girl in the school, or the best looking girl in the school, would probably be the fifth year Hufflepuff with blonde curls, a supermodel body and an angelic face. It was a sort of inarguable, undisputable fact. By this society's definition, she was good looking.

But 'beautiful' was different. Beautiful was more than skin deep. Hermione wasn't the prettiest of girls. Yet everything from her appearance to the sound of her voice to her ability to sit and read for hours on end was pleasing to Cormac. Was _beautiful._ Hermione was beautiful.

"Hurry up and answer already!" Kurt urged impatiently. Cormac simply blushed darker.

Assuming an exaggerated thoughtful pose, Kurt tapped his chin with his forefinger. "Well it has to be someone he talks about a lot," Kurt pondered aloud. "Maybe a girl he's been spending a lot of time with, that's very likely. Oh, and she must be within ear shot of course, since he's so incredibly embarrassed. What do you think, 'Mione?"

Cormac elbowed Kurt in the ribs again. "I told you to leave Hermione alone!" he demanded. His face was still bright red from anger and embarrassment.

Kurt mock saluted. "Yes, sir," he intoned sarcastically before turning back to his Christmas dinner with a look of triumph adorning his features.

Cormac caught Hermione's eye and turned to his own plate swiftly, his previously fading blush returning with a vengeance.

* * *

Hermione understood perfectly what Cormac's friend was trying to get at. She was bright enough to work it out straight away, even if she hadn't known already.

She'd known Cormac had feelings for her and that was why he was following her around like a lost puppy. She had simply chosen to ignore it. It was easier to ignore his feelings than to ignore him. Letting him have his way and sit with her in the library for a few days hadn't done any harm; if anything it had stopped him from trying anything ridiculous to get her to notice him. Despite previous historical failures she had stuck with her policy of appeasement: if she let Cormac be her friend nothing more would come of it.

Well, that was the story she'd prepared for Harry at least.

But when she was completely frank with herself Hermione knew that she hadn't let Cormac spend so much time with her because it was simply easier: that was an excuse she'd thought up later.

No, Hermione's reason had nothing to do with deterring Cormac or saving herself the effort. She'd just been lonely. With Harry gone and Ron not speaking to her (or her not speaking to Ron, depending on the approach you took) Hermione had just wanted someone to notice her.

Cormac had noticed her.

He'd been a brief escape from loneliness.

She too turned to her food. The three ate in silence.

* * *

Cormac had refused to sit with Kurt in the common room. Rather than being annoyed, Kurt seemed amused by the fact and flitted out of the common room to go and join a snowball fight that could be seen taking place from the tower windows that looked out onto the Hogwarts' grounds: it looked like some of the first years had decided to unleash snow war.

Cormac sat on the couch beside her ignoring the shouts of laughter drifting up from the grounds.

"You can go outside if you want," Hermione insisted. He simply shook his head.

Cormac didn't feel in the least bit comfortable around Hermione since Kurt had started causing trouble at lunchtime. He knew quite plainly that Hermione was the smartest girl in the school. She would easily have worked out the meaning behind his best friend's words.

_This might be the last time we're alone together,_ thought Cormac sadly. _I should talk to her now; I might not get another chance._

With renewed determination he struck up conversation.

* * *

Hermione sensed his nervousness. He barely said a word to her. The two of them sat there in silence, the shouts of those having fun outside in the weakening storm somehow drifting up to the common room.

"Hermione," Cormac began hesitantly. She turned her head to him sharply. "About what Kurt said…" he trailed off, words obviously failing him.

She smiled sadly, not knowing what to say either.

"You like Weasley don't, you?!" he blurted suddenly. He quickly clamped his mouth shut. He looked like a child, terrified that he'd done something wrong.

The ache that rested on her chest whenever her traitorous thoughts turned to Ron rose again. She felt her forced smile fade, but she refused to let tears prick her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Cormac," was all she had the heart to say.

Because she was sorry. Sorry she'd ever invited him to the stupid party. Sorry she'd ever been jealous of Ron. Sorry she'd been selfish enough to lead Cormac on to relieve her own loneliness. Sorry she'd managed to turn into someone she despised.

Cormac got up. "I think I'm going for a walk," he grunted. "Merry Christmas, Granger."

She nodded to him. "Merry Christmas, McLaggen."

The portrait hole closed behind him with an ominous, muted 'clunk'.

**Author's notes:** Sorry for the evil ending, haha :P

Please keep up the reading and reviewing! It's such an encouragement.


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N:** My thanks to Flight from Death, PrincessProcrastination and o0oBubblesBlackDaCrzyInsne1... for reviewing the last chapter. This is probably my favourite chapter so far, and I jhope you enjoy it too. Don't forget to review!

**Chapter 8**

Harry had interesting news when he returned home after the holidays. He'd overheard something between Snape and Malfoy during the disastrous Christmas party, but more importantly to Hermione he'd had a visit from the Minister of Magic. It did Hermione well to have her problems put in proportion.

Ron was still practising various kissing techniques with Lavender Brown far more often than was necessary, and in locations all too public for the comfort of the other occupants of the common room.

Despite Harry's renewed campaign Hermione firmly insisted that she would not give in and talk to Ron. Ron had Lavender, and he didn't seem too bothered if Hermione was speaking to him or not.

What bothered Hermione more was that Christmas had been wasted.

Hermione didn't like wasting time or opportunities. That was why she studied so much. She wanted to make the best of everything she could. She had spent Christmas with McLaggen and it had achieved nothing.

She sat in the common room night after night trying to control her anger so that she could finish her homework, concentrating with all her might on not thinking about what Ron and _her_ were doing in the corner.

This was exactly the same situation she'd been in before Christmas.

She bit back her anger before she could scream. She'd never been jealous before. It was an ugly emotion, a painful one. She was regretful too, though she knew that one. It was eating her up inside, the mixture of jealousy and regret. She hated Lavender for taking Ron, yet she knew it wasn't Lavender's fault, not really.

"It's me," she had concluded one night, staring at her face in the mirror. Her appearance was deteriorating rapidly: her skin was pale and bags were appearing under her eyes "It's my fault for not making it obvious enough. It's my fault for believing he liked me back."

And then there was Cormac.

With Harry back from the Burrow Hermione had no reason to be lonely. Even when Harry was with Ron rather than her she could still talk to Ginny, or Neville. So why did she still feel lonely? Why did she miss _McLaggen_?

She tried to ignore it all: to concentrate on her studies. The notice that appeared in the common room about Apparition Lessons was another welcome distraction. Hermione checked out all the library's books on the magical art of disappearing and reappearing elsewhere to concentrate on understanding the technique perfectly. She was determined not to think of Ron or Cormac whilst there were more important matters at hand.

But try as she might her distractions didn't work.

* * *

It was harder than usual for Cormac to get back into the everyday school routine. He had to force himself to stay out of the library after lessons.

He hated it. Hated every Hermione-less moment. He wanted just to see her smile at him again, no matter how much that took. Her sad little smile had become imprinted on his brain like a tattoo. He was addicted to it and her presence. But he forced himself to stay away. She didn't want him. She couldn't.

* * *

Hermione's third Apparition lesson produced nothing. True, she wasn't the only person who was struggling to master the principle, but that didn't lessen her frustration.

She lagged behind on the way out of the Great Hall deliberately. Harry and Ron were chatting amiably not far away. She ached to join them, but Lavender's blonde head bobbing along only paces in front of her reminded her of why she couldn't.

When she excited the hall she was surprised to find McLaggen and his best friend leaning against the marble banister of the entrance hall staircase. Kurt patted his friend's shoulder encouragingly when he saw Hermione, before joining the rest of the Gryffindors making their way towards the portrait hole. McLaggen waited for her.

She tried to hold her head high and walk straight past him, but he reached out and grabbed hold of her arm. He was smiling, his eyes twinkling with determination.

"Hermione," he said; the expression on his face as he carefully pronounced her name looked like he had just tasted especially sweet honey. "Come for a walk with me. I need to talk to you."

She agreed reluctantly. She really didn't want Cormac to try to force his way back into her life again after she'd tried so hard to forget him, but he looked so hopeful, so determined. Much like on the night of Slughorn's party she realised she was powerless against Cormac, as large as he was.

But it was sympathy, not fear, that made her agree. After all, Cormac had proved with endless hours of friendly company in the holidays that he wouldn't hurt her.

She nodded and followed him silently into the weak winter sunlight in the grounds outside.

* * *

Cormac had been lying on his bed sulking again.

It was his new favourite pass time. Forget Quidditch. Forget chess. Ignore Kurt. Wallowing in self-pity and memories of Hermione was his new favourite way to pass those pesky hours between lessons and a reasonable time to fall asleep.

Cormac wondered when he had gotten sucked in so deep. His brain was stuck on Hermione. He had already concluded that he had about as much chance with Hermione as Merlin had of coming back from the dead. Yet he couldn't get her out of his head.

"Surely, somewhere out there, there's an intelligent girl who's less awkward than Hermione. After all, I wanted someone clever, they don't have to be order of Merlin standard," he muttered to himself. Words of common sense to which his heart refused to listen.

"Good thinking," Kurt encouraged from the next bed. "Marianne might even take you back, you know, if you're _really_ nice to her." Cormac ignored him.

"Chicken," whispered the voice at the back of Cormac's head. "You won't find another Hermione. You've never turned down a challenge yet. Don't tell me you're going to let a girl beat you."

The voice was right again, of course. It was always right.

Cormac sat up straight. "Kurt, I need your help."

"Of course you do, mate," Kurt jabbered easily. "Marianne's not an easy girl to catch, and you're already in her bad books. But she hasn't got another boyfriend yet, and you've already snagged her once, so we're in with an advantage…"

"Shut up about stupid Marianne. I need you to help me talk to Hermione."

Kurt waved his hands around in frustration. "You just said you were giving up on her!" was his exasperated response.

"I changed my mind," Cormac stated clearly. "I never give up. Why should I start now?" Kurt looked at him dubiously: like he suspected his best friend had gone mad. "Cormac McLaggen never gives up!" Cormac maintained. "Just you watch, Kurt."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but followed his best friend towards the entrance hall nonetheless.

* * *

Hermione didn't know how to break the awkward silence that surrounded her.

McLaggen didn't seem too concerned by her lack of speech. He trudged along, humming tunelessly. They walked so far away from the castle that she thought he had forgotten her presence, until he reached out and took hold of her hand casually.

His hand was warm and soft, and though she considered it, she decided not to pull away.

Eventually he stopped at the edge of the lake. He laid his cloak on the damp ground before sitting on it, and pulled her down to sit beside him.

"I thought you'd decided not to talk to me," Hermione tried slowly when he didn't look at her, but simply continued to hold her hand as he looked out over the lake.

Cormac shrugged. "Cormac McLaggen never gives up," he stated simply, and turned away from her to gaze back over the water again.

Hermione considered his words for a minute, before withdrawing her hand from his. He let it go, although he turned to look at her. "Especially when a pretty girl is involved," she added to his sentence, her voice laced with vicious poison.

Cormac studied her face before laughing. "Yes, yes," he admitted readily. He reached out and took hold of her hand, this time more deliberately. He held it firmly, not giving her the chance to pull away. "That probably was the rest of my motto. But then a particularly pretty girl made me realise something very important."

Hermione scoffed disgustedly. "How many girls have you used that line on already? I'm not going to fall for cheap tricks like that, McLaggen."

Cormac studied her expression again, and nodded, serious now. "Yes, I've told girls a thousand times before they're the prettiest girl I've ever seen. It's different this time." He held up his hand before she could say more. "I'm not telling you that you were the one who changed my mind." The anger in Hermione's eyes faded slightly to be replaced by confusion. Cormac pressed on, "It was Marianne, the girlfriend who dumped me when I agreed to go with you to Slughorn's party. She was just one idiot too many. I realised it didn't matter how pretty Marianne was, or how much she worshiped me."

He shifted so he was facing her and held her hand in both of his. "Hermione, I'd just realised all this when you asked me if I'd seen your lost bag. Had you not walked in right then, I probably would have dated Marianne for months before I'd come to my senses and acted on my revelation. I realised you were much better than all those other girls. Not because you were prettier, or easier to win over. It wasn't even because you were a challenge! Hermione, you're smart. You're the smartest person I've ever met! I like you, Hermione Granger, because there is something going on in your head."

To Cormac's great surprise Hermione burst out laughing. "Is that your way of trying to win me over?" she gasped. "By telling me you've had prettier girlfriends."

Her happy grin faded again. Cormac squeezed her hand slightly, not knowing what else to do. He wanted to see her real smile again. Instead she gave him the sad, forced smile he had seen too often on her features. "I'm sorry my intentions in asking you out weren't as noble as yours," she intoned dully.

Cormac nodded his understanding. "I know about Weasley, Kurt's girlfriend told me."

"Then you know I'm a horrible girl," she murmured miserably. "I was only trying to make Ron jealous."

"I know," was all Cormac replied.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, staring him straight in the eye.

"I know that too."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked desolately. "I'm horrible."

"Sometimes," he agreed, tilting his head as he observed her. "But sometimes so am I. And sometimes you're wonderful instead."

"That's not a good enough reason," she protested. She whipped her hand from his, gesturing wildly. "I've been particularly nasty to you. I don't understand why you're still acting like a perfect gentleman."

He shrugged, grinning clumsily. "Well, whilst we're being completely honest, I _am_ trying to win you over; and being nice to the girl tends to help, in my experience."

Grinning reluctantly, but grinning all the same, she shook her head at Cormac. "I'm trying to say you shouldn't be attempting to win me over. You shouldn't want me after how I've treated you."

Without a word Cormac rocked forwards onto his knees so that he was closer to Hermione, and reached out to trap both of her hands between his. "You make it sound like you're the only person to try to make someone jealous. I'm _much_ worse than you, Hermione: a billion times worse. I'm probably only being so nice to you because you're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

"I thought you said I wasn't pretty," she began, anger building in her eyes.

"I didn't say that. You are pretty. I just said Marianne was prettier." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to organise his thoughts. "Beautiful and pretty aren't the same. You're beautiful to me. The way you mouth the words when you read is beautiful. The way your eyes show everything you're feeling is beautiful. I think…" he paused, searching for the right words "…I think maybe everyone is beautiful, but you have to take the time to get to know him or her to find that out."

Hermione gazed at him, mesmerized. "When did you become a philosopher?" she asked, enchanted.

He blushed. "Sorry. I'll shut up now."

Hermione leaned closer. "Please don't. What you just said, that wasn't just pretty words." She smiled at him warily. "What you just said was beautiful, Cormac."

He blushed darker. "I just said what I was thinking," he mumbled, embarrassed.

"That's what philosopher's do," she explained. "They think. Their job in Ancient Greece was to simply think. They were very clever men."

"Really, you think that I'm clever?" Cormac demanded, drinking in her praise.

"Don't get a big head," she warned seriously.

"I can't help it if a _beautiful_ girl complements me," he chirped, almost singing the word beautiful.

She smirked. "Do you only have one compliment?" she inquired, raising an eyebrow. "Beautiful is becoming rather repetitive."

It was only when he released one of her hands to wave his dismissively that Hermione realised Cormac had still been holding on to her. "I'll come up with something else later," he promised.

A comfortable silence settled over the two. Hermione looked out over the lake, trying not to be conscious of Cormac's eyes on her. She watched the giant squid wave its tentacles lazily whilst it basked in the slightly warmer shallow water at the edge of the lake.

After a pregnant pause Cormac spoke. "Does this-" he gestured between the two of them when she turned to look at him "-mean that you're giving me another chance?"

Hermione nodded readily.

Then, smiling shyly, she leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss on his cheek. The two blushed a matching shade of crimson.

"Um, thanks," muttered Cormac, wondering why something so small seemed to light up his whole week when it came from Hermione.

"Please don't mess this up," Hermione begged quietly. "I don't really trust my emotions anymore, so I probably won't give you another chance."

Cormac nodded enthusiastically. "One last chance," he promised, "is all I need."

**Authors notes:**

To me, that seems to be a suitable ending, but I also have plans for more: if you guys want more chapters, please tell me. I'm happy with either decision to be perfectly honest, so I'll cast the die to you lot. Tell me by review (or PM if that suits you more) what you want. I'll be sure to read and consider eveyone's suggestions, and reply to you where possible.

Thanks for reading! :)


	10. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

Hello everyone!  
This story's been sat here a while, but I know a lot of you have put this on your alerts in hope of more chapters.  
There won't be any more.  
But there IS a sequel, the first chapter of which I just uploaded. You can be find it via my profile.  
I know you guys have been waiting months, and an apology is more than called for, so I'm sorry it took so long to get there...but woo, I got there!  
See you for some more Cormac/Hermione goodness over there =)

Hannah


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